


Corrupted

by thegirlwhorunswithwolves



Series: Corrupted [1]
Category: Original Work
Genre: Biology, Chemistry, F/F, F/M, Government, Original Character(s), Religion, Science, Science Fiction, Sexy Times, and not even mentioned for a few chapters, and not gone into graphically, eventually, fingers crossed, first published original work, give me a chance, have, rape is a small back story explination, sexy ladies, so please, who will
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-06-10
Updated: 2013-06-10
Packaged: 2017-12-14 14:11:19
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,492
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/837772
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thegirlwhorunswithwolves/pseuds/thegirlwhorunswithwolves
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Who the fuck was she, and how could I get her into my bed while finding out? Fuck corruption, she was worth a few percent.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Corrupted

“How pure are you?”

“What?” I mumbled against his neck, teeth nipping and biting the sensitive skin there. He hadn’t shaved in a while, I could feel the stubble rubbing against my check, sure to leave it red in the morning. 

“How. Pure. Are. You?” He asked again, pausing between words, pushing my face away from his body and looking me in the eyes. I looked up at him, knowing that this could ruin everything, and I could end up going home alone tonight, all because he’d asked the million dollar question. Suddenly, I didn’t feel like getting laid anymore, the whole aim having been to forget exactly what had just been brought up. I pushed him off me, untangling my legs from around his waist and jumping down onto the pavement. 

“Sorry man, I’m not game anymore.” I told him, turning around and walking down the alleyway back to the main road.

“You filthy bitch! How corrupted are you? Do you even have a majority anymore you fucking tease?” I continued walking on, not looking back, determined to ignore his comments. It was a fucking mistake going out tonight, it only made it worse after all.  
When I reached the deserted main road, I couldn’t help myself, reaching into my pocket and pulling out the small electronic device, painlessly picking my finger on the outstretched needle and watching it retreat into the device once more. I carried on walking, twisting the device in and out of my fingers. It was no bigger than a USB stick, a modern medicine miracle they called it, quick and easy for on the go use. Just a drop of blood and a 3 minute waiting time while your DNA is spliced, diced and analysed. 

I carried on walking, too use to the feeling of waiting for the results, pushing my hands into my pockets to keep them from the cold. Initially, when the chips had only just been released, the science behind the process would fascinate me. A single drop of blood is placed in the chip, and mixed with a chemical which extracts the DNA from it. Then parts of the DNA are isolated and amplified using a PCR, which cuts the DNA down. The extract is then pumped to a filter, where it is further separated and then passed through to a electrochemical sensor, which analysed the DNA, the whole process taking place in a tiny little plastic coated chip. A pre-grad in Biology had never been more of a life skill then now, what with everyone routinely checking their blood. 

A red light on the top of the chip blinked, and I looked at the screen, waiting to access the damage that tonight’s activities had done. 42% the screen said. Shit. That douchbag was right; I almost don’t have a majority. Fuck. Shit. Fuck. Why the hell had I thought going out would be a good idea tonight? 

As I walk down the street, I pass a coffee place, surprised that it’s still open at this time of night, and notice that the table pressed right against the window has a conical flask filled with a neon green liquid, holding a single rose in place on the centre of the table. I backtracked and looked up at the sign above the shop. The banner was intricately decorated with diagrams of carbon 6 rings and hydrocarbon molecules, with the name of the coffee shop in white chalk: The Coffee Lab. Inside, there were many empty tables, all with different pieces of scientific equipment, test tubes of salt and pepper, pipettes filled with vinegar, and single roses in more conical flasks and boiling tubes. 

I laughed. I just couldn’t help it. The entire concept was completely ridiculous, yet somehow genius. The shop was narrow, with single tables lining the sides, and a counter at the back with more equipment lining the back of the shop. There was rubber tubing connecting multiple flasks of brightly coloured liquid: blue, pink, green and orange and Bunsen Burners spread sporadically throughout the cafe. The different colours reflected against the glass, painting the white walls with splashes of colour. 

I stepped inside the shop, which resembled the working space of an insane child, with experiments begun but never finished. Inside, there was only one patron, a man huddled over a cup of coffee, and suddenly, coffee sounded really good right now. I approached the counter, eyes raking over everything, attempting to take it all in. While I was busy taking in the view, a barista came through the back door, smiling at me. I gave the girl a once over, and if it wasn’t for the figure 42% now engraved in my mind, I would probably have tried to impress her. As it was however, right now all I wanted was coffee and peace and quiet. 

“Hi... umm can I just have a coffee, black, please.” I mumbled, rubbing my eyes quite rudely while giving my order, but just not having the energy to care.

“Yeah, sure!” The girl’s over enthusiastic voice rang out, sounding like a personal affront to my ears. Any attraction I held for her was suddenly out the window. 

“Thanks” I grumbled, turning and looking for a place to sit. I chose a seat by the window, a clear view of the street next to me. While I waited for my coffee, I couldn’t stop myself from glancing around, completely intoxicated in the mad science behind coffee. What was truly fascinating was the ceiling of the shop, painted to resemble a black board with more white chalk scrawling across it. I could identify a few compounds, H20 and the like, and if I had to hazard a guess, C8H10N4O2 was probably caffeine from how commonly it appeared. 

Whose brain child was this place? In whose mind had this ridiculous concept been born, and who had had the willpower to go through with the idea and turn it into a reality? Such a person should surely be feared; I was sitting in the evidence of their determination and creative insanity. If they could create this, where would they stop?

A thought fluttered across the edge of my conscious, was this... could it be the outcome of corruption? Surely not, for if this was the case, why would people not beg to be corrupted? If this truly was what the madness created, then it was beautiful and shouldn't be feared. 

No, this was no by-product of corruption, it could not be; this must be the work of a Purist. Yes, that was it; a Zero could easily have the purity of mind to create such a wonder, the news was often talking about the impressive skills of the Pure. Of course, now I had arrived to the obvious conclusion. The mind that bore this must have been shining bright, free from all corruption, a virgin in the purest sense of the word. 

I wondered why such a spectacle was practically empty; could others not marvel in the beauty that was this little coffee shop?

The shop door opened, and I was pleased that the cafe was getting well deserved attention, turning around in my seat to look at who had entered the shop. In walked a tall female, black hair nearing her waist in soft curls, and bright green eyes that resembled those of a witches familiar. In fact, nearly everything about the girl was reminiscent of a cat. She wore a soft black leather jacket, black skinny jeans and leather boots, the whole ensemble melding to fit her body like a glove, showing off her hips and breasts. The barista that I had briefly admired earlier seemed plain in comparison to this feline beauty. Her eyes were rimmed with black kohl and styled with a flick, elongating their almond shape. They danced around the room, as if surveying it, taking it all in.  
I could hardly blame her; I must have looked in a similar matter when I entered. However, surprisingly her eyes did not pause on the intricate equipment adorned on the tables, but on the patrons instead. Seemingly satisfied, she continued into the room, before stopping and leaning her elbows on the counter, resting her head on top of her hands, looking up at the barista. She was either familiar to the cafe, or was extremely drunk and could no longer compose herself, either way; she looked utterly gorgeous while doing it.

Who the fuck was she, and how could I get her into my bed while finding out? Fuck corruption, she was worth a few percent. 

I was startled out of my haze by the barista who was not so subtly inclining her head in my direction. Slowly bright green eyes met mine, and that is when I knew, I was completely and utterly fucked, and I really didn't mind in the least, as long as she was the one doing the fucking.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you to everyone who got this far down without clicking away, I'm assuming that you read it all and didn't just scroll down. If that is the case, go back up and read it, please! Hopefully, this is enough of a taster to get a few people interested in the concept, there's a lot more of this to come. 
> 
> If you want more information on DNA testing start [here](http://www.theregister.co.uk/2013/04/07/panasonic_dna_test_lab_on_a_chip/)
> 
> The coffee lab actually exists[,see here,](https://twitter.com/twickerati/status/330228278470270976) but I may have exaggerated certain aspects for the sake of interesting writing, you know?
> 
>  
> 
> [If you wanna check out my tumblr, its here, and I follow back every single follower, how nice of me!](http://jeltikova.tumblr.com/)
> 
>  
> 
> Thanks for making it this far, please leave me a kudos to encourage me to keep on writing, or I might just give up!


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